Nonsense September 14, 2009 Longrider Cats, Humour, Personal Stuff 7 The owl-faced pussycat in a box of quince. Where is the runcible spoon? Tags: cats, general+silliness
“Where is the runcible spoon?” Judging by her expression, I think I know where she’s planning to stick it… .-= My last blog ..The Measured Response to Racism… =-.
My Dear Partner In Crime considers my calico cat, Ms Emma Pouncer, to be slow on the uptake. But she’s drop-dead gorgeous…so who needs brains?
How many cats do you have?
.-= My last blog ..[marauding monday] safety in numbers =-.
Fourteen
Beautiful markings!
She was, unfortunately, last in the queue for brains and is afraid of her own shadow.
“Where is the runcible spoon?”
Judging by her expression, I think I know where she’s planning to stick it…
.-= My last blog ..The Measured Response to Racism… =-.
My Dear Partner In Crime considers my calico cat, Ms Emma Pouncer, to be slow on the uptake. But she’s drop-dead gorgeous…so who needs brains?
Interestingly, her mother – also a calico – is as sharp as knives.